Dissimulationem
by StreakingHerculobus
Summary: In an ironic twist of fate Seras is the new Mina Harker in the sense that Section XIII is using her to take over England. Alucard will be none too pleased. For that matter neither is Heinkel Wolfe.
1. Fortuitous discoveries

Title: Dissimulationem  
Category: Anime/Manga » Hellsing  
Author: StreakingHerculobus  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T  
Genre: Supernatural/Spiritual  
Published: 06-05-17, Updated: 03-31-19  
Chapters: 4, Words: 7,789

 **This story takes place 45 years after the culmination of Hellsing Ultimate.**

 _"Firstly, when the faith is in question, there must be no delay; but at the slightest suspicion, rigorous measures must be resorted to with all speed. Secondly, no consideration is to be shown to any prince or prelate, however high his station. Thirdly, extreme severity is rather to be exercised against those who attempt to shield themselves under the protection of any potentate, and fourthly, no man must lower himself by showing toleration toward heretics of any kind."_

* * *

Now that I'm older...relatively, I see how naive I was to think that beautiful things never let you down. As an orphan, I was told I would go nowhere. As a troubled child I was told my prayers would go unanswered. I should've listened.

Everywhere I see you around. The person who ironically picked me up. The person who never came back. Far from perfect I know. My parents no doubt wanted a nice guy for me. But then, they also wanted me to live a long and fulfilling life.

I don't even recognize myself now. To think I'd end up one of those hedonistic vampires of legend, much like Master. Sir Integra would be disappointed. The only things I have left is my shadow and an out of control hunger.

I don't stay at the mansion anymore. It was turned into a museum a long time ago. This cave is my home. Unsuspecting explorers, as rare as they are, become my meals. But I prefer it this way. Draws less attention to myself. Even if I remain weak from the lack of regular sustenance.

I'd rather be a weak homicidal vampire than a strong one. I discovered the path from human to monster is indeed a slippery slope. I fell. I fell hard. And so, this meager existence is my last resort. Handicapping myself for the sake of my former humanity. I gain solace from this. Even if I do miss the strength to manifest Pip. I miss hearing him in my mind.

Alucard's always there, however, in the distance unable to hear me. It's probably my imagination. The madness that inevitably seizes creatures such as me. The visage is so persistent, however. I'm unable to help but to believe. His mark is still imprinted upon my neck after all.

The part I hate is how I'm hanging here, barely holding on, yet he never comes to me. So, the part I doubt is whether he still cares for me, if he ever cared at all.

If I could just sleep forever. And not be tormented with the questions of whether I truly knew him. So that I wouldn't feel that I'm simply killing time until judgement day.

Because in the meantime, I do nothing but build castles in my mind. Like the childhood game of 'house.' My master and I living the fairy tale life. The little lies I tell myself. The big dreams which will never come true.

My best bet is not to care. I pray I don't care.

* * *

The world had changed. Even the Catholic church strangely enough. Heinkel Wolfe hadn't. She didn't know whether to be thankful or not. In her eyes the righteous institutions of old, the Vatican or Rome, had fallen into disrepute. But no one could tell except her, having not lived for close to a hundred years now. So, she felt alone.

It didn't drive her to question her faith in God. She'd seen enough miracles and demons alike. But she seemed to have been mistaken in her youth about his goodness. Or rather his compassion.

The earth continued to rotate. The moon continued to revolve. The sun shone brightly as ever. Man continued its "destiny," a farce contrived by the humanists. The only thing you were destined to do was die. Even vampires such as the one before her. Albeit some must wait longer than others.

"Seras Victoria."

The vampire wasn't awake. She looked malnourished. All the easier for Section 13 to clean up. Honestly, Heinkel hadn't been expecting this. They were simply sent to investigate the disappearance of the relative of one of France's bishops. To think it would lead them to this cave and the location of one of the last known remaining Nosferatu.

"Shall I kill her, Father?"

Heinkel rubbed her forearm across her bandaged face, growing weary of their constant lack of understanding. "You can try. But I warn you, this one cannot die by ordinary means."

"What are you saying?" her subordinate anxiously inquired. "All creatures fall to the might of God." Images of Enrico Maxwell shouting pompous words flashed across her eyes in the same battle which took Yumi's life.

"Yes, but you aren't God."

"But we're his messengers! His instruments of divine punishment-"

Heinkel Wolfe spun around, no longer able to conceal her irritation. "Have you ever considered she is already being punished? That perhaps killing her would be a mercy? It is God who made her this way."

Heinkel Wolfe opened her mouth to say more, but she thought better of it. You couldn't tell these soldiers anything, so brainwashed by the Vatican. The problem, however, is what happens when the stooges take over? Truths are lost forever.

"Box it up," she demanded, weary of her own musings.

* * *

Deep in the cellars of the Vatican, where they kept their most secret and dangerous of artifacts, even creatures, those who never needed to see the light of day again, or in Seras Victoria's case, the light of the moon. "This is where you'll be sleeping, you protestant dog."

Her underlings toted the box behind her, disturbed by the presence of so many dark possessions around them, gathered on dusty shelves. She motioned for them to place the package down.

Prying open the lid, Heinkel appraised her quarry one last time. She grimaced when her eyes landed on where the vampires should be. Moldy sockets were all that remained.

Taking out a crimson and plain bandana, she told herself she wasn't doing this to preserve the vampire's dignity. That she simply couldn't tolerate the sight. Heinkel tied the cloth around the vampire's head.

She checked to make sure that all the engravings were in place around the circumference of the wooden box, special holy rites which drained the vampire of her powers. With these Seras wouldn't be able to perform her various vampire tricks like dissolving into liquid. She would be no more capable than a human. If she didn't taste blood, that is.

Heinkel tugged on the parchment binding Seras' hands and feet together, seals to keep her asleep, in this case, again, as long as the scent of free blood stayed far away. Hopefully, entombed in this cellar, the vampire known as Seras Victoria would be forgotten to the annals of Section 13 and man altogether.

Standing up she watched them as they replaced and nailed down the lid of the makeshift coffin. Then they lifted it and slid it into the designated space, a cove made of stone. With a heave they almost completed shoving the half-ton headstone across the entrance to the tomb when the Archbishop Luca Jessup waltzed in followed by an itinerary of guards.

Heinkel Wolfe's shoulders slumped a little.

"Paladin, I thought we discussed this," he began pompously. "The vampire is to be transferred to the research division."

"And I informed you that wasn't wise," Wolfe replied. "This is a category one creature and not to be trifled with."

"And I believe you. However, for the very reason it's such a dangerous possession, we require study. It's getting time for another crusade, I can feel it. With the knowledge this thing affords, we will be able to wipe out the British heathens."

"You mean you want to use the vampire the same way the Nazi's used Harker. What you are suggesting is blasphemy."

Jessup chuckled. "Allowing filthy protestants free run of Europe is blasphemy, Paladin. God gifted us with this resource, and I will be sure to develop every advantage. Without Alucard and with his progeny in our possession the Queen has no defense."

Growing enraptured with his own speech, he continued, "Our ranks have never been more populated. We will attack the continental UK by sea and march north from Rome to Germany, seizing control of both England and the European Union in one fell blow."

Heinkel rolled her eyes. "And what does the Pope have to say about these plans?"

"I will have his every blessing. This shall be a humanitarian operation, you see. The entire world will be begging for our assistance once we unleash dark parasites upon them." Jessup's eyes fell on the slumbering vampire, the key to all his designs.

Wolfe harrumphed and stormed out. She never thought she'd see a man more delusional than Enrico Maxwell, but nature never failed to top herself.

She lost Yumie in the last crusade...she shook her head. How many times a day does that thought cross her mind?

Stepping out into the warmer corridors, Heinkel stopped and turned her shoulders. There was a feeling of foreboding in the air. Above Seras' coffin a dark mist seemed to swirl and go on to form a sinister face. It was obvious to Heinkel that she was the only one to notice, the fools. Grimacing, she dusted her cloak and lumbered out of the cold cellar.

* * *

 _10 months later_

Five men and one woman, silhouettes only, arranged around a circular table discussed the latest epidemic.

"Your majesty, there has been over one hundred thousand confirmed deaths. We don't have much of an option. Our own forces are not equipped for this."

The woman, beneath blond bangs, slowly shook her dainty head. She may be small, but she had earned a reputation that is fierce. "No, she began softly, "an' surrender our country to the Catholics?"

"Then what do you suggest?" another shadow asked earnestly.

"I 'member a story my mother used to tell me when I was a wee lad. About a vampire huntress. A Hellsing."

Someone was about to interrupt when she held up her hand. "She tol' me that when forces grow beyond our control, to look deep below the tower. A knight awaits us."

The figure directly across from her, furthest concealed in the dark out of all of them. All that could be seen was the outlines of his long curls. "Cold storage. What's down there. It just might be possible."

"What are you talking about?" the same anxious man from earlier sweated.

"Cryonics," another one supplied.

The Queen banged her hands onto the antique table. "Let's get to it then."

* * *

Heinkel's boots squeaked as she ambled higher and higher to the heights of the Vatican's research tower. She brushed past a couple guards, who barked after her. With one look, however, she shut them up.

She turned a corner and descended upon a landing. At the far end of a hall there was an iron door. It creaked as she carefully slunk past.

It was dark at first but candles deeper in illuminated an eerie scene. She felt like swallowing, but she was a soldier. She chose to spit instead.

"Unnatural," she grumbled.

Suspended on the wall, wrapped in bandages, the petite and shrunken form of the vampire who once went by the name of Seras Victoria. If you looked closely you could make out strands of faded blonde hair threaded between the loose cloth surrounding her head. Thick chains held her aloft and in the foreground of the body, outlined on the wall, the special holy rite keeping her asleep.

The scientists finally noticed Heinkel's intrusion and behind their spectacle urged her to leave at once. Heinkel paid them no more mind than she did the guards. Looking around, she got a feel for the kind of experiments they were conducting. Needles and surgical saws were thrown about haphazardly. It wasn't a sanitary environment at all. But then, you weren't going to find any self-respecting researchers engaged in this kind of depraved work.

Heinkel's eyes once again traveled to the trapped vampire as the venerable Archbishop Luca Jessup hurried through the entrance, a frigid expression in his face. "Now see here Wolfe! You were never given permission to access these premises-"

"Better yet, I have a mandate from the Pope himself to traverse any part of Italy which falls under suspicion of blasphemy." Heinkel turned to look at him. "I see your experiments have been fruitful. The English and even the Americans are dropping like flies."

The Archbishop had the gall to look pleased. "Yes," he crooned. "Everything is going according to plan."

Heinkel grunted and took one last cursory glance around the lab. "As long as you don't jinx yourself, Archbishop." She shuffled around to fully face him. "But I didn't come here to congratulate you on your seeming successes. I feel that it is my God-given duty to inform you of the mistake you're making."

Jessup quirked his head. "Is it a mistake to cull the populations of the heathens?"

Heinkel shook her head at his obtuseness. "It's a mistake to use this unholy...thing to ensure your designs." She looked him square. "The Lord will judge you."

The Archbishop narrowed his eyes. The Paladin was one of those devout types, an antique from the 21st century. Always challenging him. "As you said, what you see before you are nothing more than a thing. A scientific resource. How can a husk be either good or evil? That's all it is." He stepped closer and put an arm around her shoulders. "And you'll find that the Pope agrees with me."

Heinkel shoved past him, taking comfort in the fact that at the very least she warned him.

"Oh, and Heinkel," the Archbishop called out. "Let me remind you who was appointed to do the thinking. We all have our different skill sets, some more intricate than others."

Heinkel hesitated and grit her teeth, fighting her instinct to turn around and bash his face in. That's the way she was geared. But she remembered that Father Anderson often received the same treatment. He was able to stay his hand. So will she.

But the Archbishop wasn't finished. "And since you have so much time on your hands, to be investigating the Vatican itself, perhaps a mission would do you good. Go check out England for me. Report back on the situation."

Heinkel, with her face still towards the staircase, nodded. She left with one last warning. "In the kingdom of God, the ends never justify the means."

* * *

The Queen watched in fascination as the de-freezing process ended. The culmination of exactly 109 years of stasis lay before her and her entourage. Sir Hellsing, she was called. Not no ordinary knight, but a member of the Convention of Twelve, a descendant of the Round Table. The woman, a descendant of the Abraham Hellsing of legend.

Slowly you could see the life slowly ebbing back into the woman's veins. Her skin taking on more color, her blonde seemingly metallic hair defrosted.

"Are you willing, your Majesty, to bet all of England's chips on this...old woman?" a rather frail member of her adviser board doubted.

"Are you questioning me mum's judgment? Besides, it's said she dealt with the supernatural on the regular. Gentlemen, this is the right thing. I feel it in my bones."

Sir Integra Fairbrooks Wingate Hellsing opened her eyes.

* * *

So, more backstory will be explained next chapter. I'll go ahead and clarify that the only AU parts of this story are that Alucard never came back after 30 years and Integra was cryonically preserved. Let me know if there are any more confusions with what has currently been established. Also, Alucard will be a major fixture in this story. Just must wait for his dramatic entrance. Reviews are appreciated, but thanks for reading!


	2. Strange parley

_"And there followed another angel, saying, Babylon is fallen, is fallen, that great city, because she made all nations drink of the wine of the wrath of her fornication." -Revelation 14:8_

 _"Because she made all nations drink of the wine of the wrath of her fornication: the word translated wrath, though it oft so signifies, yet should rather be here translated poison..." -Matthew Poole_

* * *

Sir Integra Hellsing was frustrated. Her recovery was slower than she'd like. They told her it would take months of physical therapy. But they didn't have months. She remembered the first time she looked outside. Through a giant Gothic window. When a flock of black crows, thousands, inked across overcast skies.

They possessed a specimen in the lab. With silky feathers. Normal bullets didn't work on them. Only silver, mercury, and holy water. A telling sign to Integra. The worst part, their red eyes. They seemed familiar. Integra chalked it up to nostalgia. She dreaded what it meant otherwise.

The doctor was getting on her nerves. "Sir Integra, you must not overexert yourself. You already exercised for four hours today, two more than recommended. You'll strain yourself."

"The only thing strained around here is my patience! The Round Table won't listen. The Queen is about to succumb to popular opinion. So, help me..." she clenched her fist out in front of her. It had only been a few weeks, yet she could still barely hold onto an apple. She hated being so frail.

"Lady Hellsing," a guttural voice announced. She turned to see Lord Winston, a man with long silver hair and curls that made her jealous. He was her staunchest supporter on the Table. But not even the two of them could make the rest see reason. They preferred subjugation over death. Cowards, all of them. "May I say you look very refreshed this evening."

Sir Integra frowned. She was not used to someone who was able to tolerate her moods. There had been no one since Walter really. But Lord Winston possessed a unique and laid-back disposition, a disposition which belied a hunger to free England from this monstrous tyranny, a trait Sir Integra could get used to.

"Refreshed enough to know what I need to do, Lord Winston. If the Table won't cooperate with me, I'll just form my own "relief" effort."

His brows drew together for a moment and seeing the beginnings of a smirk on Sir Integra's face, he understood. Smirking as well, he congratulated her on her benevolence. "If you're so dead set on this little charity of yours, I could be persuaded to donate a few million, as well as a coalition of...aid workers."

Sir Integra lit a cigar. "I'm sure the others will be eager to contribute as well."

Lord Winston nodded, reflecting on a few favors he could call in.

"We need a staging area. You said my manor still stood? We'll operate from there."

"I don't mean to second guess you, but it's been a historic site for years now. I've been inside. Everything was gutted by bureaucrats looking to make an extra dollar. The weapons, the artwork. There's better, more defensible places to set up camp."

"Probably," Sir Integra admitted. "However, whether bureaucrats or criminal, these treasure hunters could never have breached the recesses of the basement. Only myself and my butler knew how to gain entrance into my more sensitive storerooms."

Lord Winston smiled. "I'm going to hazard a wild guess and assume you're talking about guns."

Sir Integra released a puff of smoke. "Countless."

* * *

Greed. The root of all evils. But the greed in our hearts is often hard to perceive. Not so much we want to attain this or that. Rather we are frantic to hold onto what we already have. The hatred of losing things motivates all people. Youth, jobs, loved ones...your own life. Heinkel liked to think she had nothing left. "Go, sell your possessions..."

She sold her will to the Holy See. She was taken in as an orphan and raised to be a soldier. To outsiders she might not seem to have much choice. Yet the church provided her an education. She used to be a beautiful woman. There was a time before she took her vows when she could've exited, found a husband, and started a good Christian home.

Father Alexander Anderson, however, was her role model. He was kind to her when no one else was. Sure, he could be extremely strict, and she understood he only disciplined out of love.

But his zeal, unmatched! Compared to him, she was a wilted disfigured rose. He was the one who inspired her to take this path.

One time she was tempted by the idea of settling down and forming a family.

Now she protected the same homes and families that she was close to cultivating when she was young.

But looking around London, sniffing the pestilence in the air and watching how the rats live better than the humans, she began to wonder, if she was doing just the opposite.

Thus far she had noticed there were little to no relief efforts. In fact, likely she had wasted more monsters on the way here than the English government. After the death of Hellsing they forgot what kind of dangers lurk out there. The price of throwing away tradition. Generations, always thinking they know better than their forefathers.

Speaking of tradition, the Hellsing Manor still stood. Heinkel did not know why she was here. Or rather, she did know, and she despised herself for it. At first, she was simply coming by to reminisce from a distance. But there was activity and not undead activity. The place was as busy as a fortress. Every now and then, you could hear shots. Target practice perhaps, or it could be the sentries culling the birds which dared to flap overhead. Heinkel had to see more.

It was simple enough sneaking inside. It was clear these soldiers were not interested in security from humans. Heinkel retraced her steps from a century ago. She would find this commander, and either eliminate him, or leave him be with full confidence that the intel would be enough to satisfy the Archbishop.

At length when she was almost to the main office, some guards accosted her, asking for her identification or some such drivel. Britain had really fallen to not be able to recognize a Paladin.

She easily brushed them aside, waving off their attempts to threaten her with their little 9mm's. Kicking the doors wide open, Heinkel froze at the sight of the lone inhabitant, a figure in her chair, looking out through the expansive window at all the activity happening on the grounds. Heinkel recognized the hair and the distinctive smell of the cigar smoke.

"I'm not here for two weeks," the figure began, "and the Vatican is already calling on my doorstep."

"Integra Wingates Hellsing. What a surprise," Heinkel grumbled in her harsh handicapped English. Most people would be wondering how Integra was still alive. At least Luca Jessup would. But Heinkel didn't sense any witchcraft and so she resolved it was none of her business.

Sir Integra swiveled her chair around and appraised her guest. The Paladin looked no different than the last time she saw her, except for an underlying lethargy that wasn't there before. "Eternal youth getting to you, Paladin?"

"Everyone dies."

"What's the saying? Some die twice, their heart, and then their body."

"I should kill you. It would make the Vatican happy."

Sir Integra narrowed her eyes. "I admit I do not know what kind of terms England and the Vatican are on right now, aside from openly hostile of course. I wonder if I should assume the worst."

"You've always been a shrewd one."

Integra snuffed her cigar out, pulled open a drawer, and threw a black carcass on top of her desk. The stench was terrible, but neither person flinched. "I thought this might have been the work of Alucard, but seeing as how this attack is secluded primarily at the West, I quickly discarded that theory. Alucard makes no distinction between his victims. So, seeing as how the Mediterranean is practically untouched, I am forced to draw other conclusions. But then, the Holy Church of Rome would never stoop so low."

Heinkel Wolfe snarled, but not with regards to Hellsing. Heinkel resented the fact that such an accusation could be made at all. She resented the fact that the accusation was true!

Integra seemed to understand where Heinkel was coming from. If there's one impression she received from Anderson it was that he taught his pupils well. "Men are a fallen creature."

"Not that I care about the deaths of heathens and protestants such as yourself. However, you would be interested to know that certain facets of the situation are more reproachable to myself than you can fathom. I might be willing to exchange this information for something in return."

"Oh? What would that be?"

"Your word." Heinkel marched up to Hellsing's desk and looked her square in the eye. "I know the word of a Hellsing is as good as done."

Integra narrowed her eyes. "As a knight, my word must be absolute."

Heinkel nodded and rolled up her sleeves. "Then if you find this information worthy, I request a guarantee from you. When all is said and done...retire your vampires. Permanently. Over the last hundred years the world has changed. I have been very busy. Your two vampires are the last natural vampires known to man."

Sir Integra leaned back in her chair, wearing her best poker face. "And after this is done, what would keep the Vatican from attacking England in another crusade? What deterrence do you suggest?"

Heinkel shook her head. "I'm not saying kill them, as much as that is preferable. But put them away. Seal them. As you grandfather once did. The age of monsters is almost to a close."

Sir Integra deliberated in her seat. It was a tall order for someone who had frankly gotten used to having a vampire or two around. For protection. And in the latter years, she reflected, for friendship.

But as a Hellsing, she was obliged to rid the earth of vampires. Even her own, if it came down to it at the end of the day. If what Heinkel said was true, and there were no more threats. What was the purpose of keeping them?

She reached out and snuffed her cigar out on the wood furnishing. "You say this information will be helpful in ending this attack?"

"Critical," Heinkel assured her.

Sir Integra was divided in her heart. As much as she wanted to tell this Paladin to get out and go to hell, her countrymen were supposed to come first. "If...this information is indeed useful like you say, then you have my word. I will do my best to seal them away at the conclusion of this affair. But need I remind you, I'm not my grandfather. There's no guarantee I'll succeed."

"God help us if you don't," Heinkel muttered.


	3. Good boy, Zoltan

**Note: Alucard spent 30 years killing off the souls within his soul just like in Hellsing Ultimate. However, in this story Integra had already fallen into ill health before he could return to her side.**

 _"Denn die Todten reiten Schnell. (For the dead travel fast.)" -Bram Stoker_

* * *

"If I had known the Vatican was behind this, abusing my own vampire," Integra growled, "I would have never agreed to your proposition."

Heinkel met Hellsing's accusing stare. "Yes, you would have."

Integra paused, realizing that Heinkel was right. It didn't change anything about the situation. England was at risk. No matter who was behind it and how. "It explains the contradictory nature of these birds." She led Heinkel into her study. "At first I thought they were ghouls. But the birds subsist on not just the blood of their victims but the meat, like carrion. Furthermore, their vampirism so to speak is not contagious to members of its own species or others. Which left me with a more unsettling conclusion. They are familiars."

"But I never heard of anyone outside of Alucard possessing millions of familiars. It's ridiculous. How would one go about controlling them? Or collecting them in the first place? It would have to be an extremely resourceful and powerful enemy." Integra reclined in her father's worn leather chair. "Now with what you disclosed everything makes sense. The Vatican amassed the birds. Then you had Seras somehow absorb their life energies, turning them into makeshift zombies."

"I'm not the expert, but I do not see any flaws in your logic." Heinkel placed her hand on the desk. "Now how about I let the location of a certain vampire slip?"

"We all make mistakes," Integra smirked.

* * *

"I see. You are an angel sent to detain me? To destroy me? To send my soul to hell?"

A painful squelch and Alucard inhaled. He reached down and gripped the offending sword passing through his middle. "Yet this energy. It's not from God. The blade is tainted."

The vampire withdrew the weapon easily and the wound quickly closed to his opponent's consternation. "Why? Why won't you die? Tell me!"

A quiet, sinister chuckle, which grew to outright laughter. Then having his fill, he lowered his head and appraised his body. "What you see before you is merely a form I choose to take. To make others feel more at ease in my presence. In truth, I am nothing more than memories twisted around a perverted ideal. I am words. I am philosophy. I am purpose." Alucard quickly glanced up, a maniacal gleam in his eyes. "Looks can kill, did you know that?"

In truth Alucard was growing weary of dispatching armies of the fallen. What was the point in proving you have the darkest soul? He desperately wanted to see a glimpse of the light again. There must be a sign shining somewhere from a shore, back to where his true challenger awaits. A worthy challenger. Someone like Integra.

It was unfortunate that he never had the chance to push her as far as he intended to. The Major got in the way. And no doubt time took care of the rest. His challenger rested in the ground by now. Who could kill him then? Would it be another century before the right human came along? A millennium?

Seras was still out there. Too distant to communicate with, but he sensed an overwhelming sadness. He wondered if he should go to her first. But he also sensed a germinating seed of wrath in her heart. Who was he to interfere?

"Are you my last enemy?" he inquired of the looming giant of pulsing flesh. "A dragon. That is suitable. I think I will abandon all pretense as well. But if I do this, I'm afraid I will no longer know where the two of us begin and end."

Primal fears arise from things which have no distinct edges. Ghosts that bleed darkness in the night. The ensconcing of mystic will.

A million crimson eyes blinked in the moonlight.

* * *

His castle on Mount Izvorul. More dilapidated than the last time he left it. Finished with the inhuman hordes that had migrated to the country, he now lounged on his iron throne. He was tempted to take a nap, but thirty years inside his mind made him restless. His thoughts turned to his fledgling, wondering what she was doing right now. What could be making her so angry?

He creased his lips. No, not angry. Was that a tinge of hate? How...interesting.

"What shall I do with you, Seras?" he murmured. She had been on her own for a while now. She was still alive, as she should be. So, she had to have taken some of his lessons to heart.

He could bring her back to the castle. Start a new dynasty. These woods still contained many magical creatures. And the villagers would learn of and eventually accept their new masters.

"In time," he acquiesced. "For now," and a grin broke out on his unshaven face, "it's time to see what dear Britannia is up to."

He stood up, a long cloak of darkness billowing out behind him, and marched deliberately down the Gothic hall towards the granite balcony overlooking the valley, eager to witness the passions of man once again. It had been far too long.

A smoky dog appeared and trotted beside him. Though at ease, it's oversized canines were nonetheless visible. It growled a greeting, and Alucard inclined his head.

"Zoltan, so you have decided to join me at last. Where were you when I was fighting, hmm?"

The dog merely sneezed and picked up the pace, pulling away from the vampire's side.

Alucard slowly shook his head. His oldest familiar was also his most disappointing. "Since you have shirked all duty for the last forty-five years, I have a mission for you. Find my fledgling and report back to me. In no way interfere."

Zoltan stopped and turned around, shooting Alucard a seemingly exasperated look.

Alucard only smiled. "Git boy," he mouthed, knowing it would only serve to get on the familiar's nerves more.

Yes, he could feel it. Looking out over the land with his superior sight, there was a great adventure to be had on the horizon.

* * *

There was never really any passion between them, Seras noted. Which is puzzling, because there was something they shared, some feeling she couldn't put her finger on. She wasn't even sure she loved him. And he certainly didn't love her back.

So then, why did she feel so bound to him? It wasn't just the vampire bond. He was her master, true, but its string was weak compared to the rope which tied them together, though stretched across continents and time.

She sleeps, and she dreams, though she doesn't understand it.

Perhaps something could come of their relationship in time. Admittedly, she knew very little about him. She had asked so many times, innocent queries, but he always refused. Her curiosity only grew to the point where whenever he wasn't looking, she stared, hoping that the lines of his face would reveal some mystery of his past. Without his past she'd never completely know what type of person he is. Was it so terrible?

Was it painful for him to recall? Or did he just want to spare her the gruesome details?

Seras was afraid she had a feeling she wouldn't care what he did in life. He could've been the worst human to walk the earth, and she might not even care. She'd end up falling for him anyway.

So perhaps she was better off not knowing. So, she could claim ignorance.

Yet on top of it all she sensed there was something deeper, secrets that he never told. Hidden in his soul. Things that never saw the light of day. Things that she coveted above all.

Alucard, to her dismay, had faded from her inner eye's view. His presence was no longer felt. And she wondered whether he was dead or whether he finally abandoned her.

She was alone.

Welcome to my filler chapter. Alucard's absence is somewhat explained. I wish it could've been longer, but I prefer to use dialogue to advance plot, and Alucard didn't exactly can socialize.

roseimagine: Seras will wake up for sure. Though it may not be very pretty. And I think Heinkel will probably stay on her own side.

darkmessiah16: I hope no one takes offense to scripting Iscariot as the villains. As with all things, there are unsavory elements. As the story unfolds, Heinkel will no doubt remain the redeeming quality of the church and possibly bring others into her circle. And I didn't know that about Abraham Hellsing. Thanks.

* * *

I really wanted to know things once. Things like the warm hug of the beach sun. As a child I wanted to look out over the waters and see for miles. I never guessed that could never be. I'm not so much a slave to the night like Alucard would put it in his weird poetical way, but an exile from the day.

But like the wolf cast out from the pack, I have forged my own path, and now the outer territories are mine. Wilder territories. My followers have touched many shores. I have played the dutiful servant for my captors. Now the time has come.

Because they didn't realize. They went a little too far.

I open my real eyes. The ones my Master told me about so long ago. I can't see for miles. But I can see their hearts gathered around me. Twisted hearts. Like mine.

I claim them.

The chains fall like rain. The enchantments wither like a rose abandoned on the pavement.

Slowly I stand.

* * *

"Are the battlements ready?" Integra was happy that most of her strength had returned to her. At least she could hold a .45 and blow those damned birds out of the sky.

Naturally, the Vatican had prepared their own defenses. For the first time in a thousand years its walls were under siege. Integra thought it was fitting after the way they invaded London. Now she was bringing the war to them.

"Quite ready, Sir," her latest butler replied. Mister Samuel Horn, a gunsmith. He was in his thirties, tall and wide, built like a tank. She had seen him throw five men at once, and so she had decided he would do. "Per instructions, forty cannons will shell the north face, while two hundred of our best men will quietly circle around and climb over. The remaining one thousand and thirty will defend the canons and wait until the wall does fall.

"Very good," she mumbled around the shape of the cigar in her mouth. "It's time. Assemble the Wild Geese. We go through the catacombs."

"But Sir!" Samuel objected. "You must be kidding. It's too dangerous."

"A fool's errand, attempting to dissuade Lady Hellsing." Lord Winston entered the room. He would've been there sooner except for a small supply chain issue. "Pardon me, but I can assure you our bunker will receive the last shipment of ammunition on time."

"Good," Integra huffed. "Now as for you Mr. Horn, no arguments. Furthermore, you will remain with Winston here and report to me regularly on our army's progress. You did encrypt the radios?"

"Yes sir," Mr. Horn sighed. As big and skilled as he was, he had gotten used to protecting others. In that regard Sir Hellsing was very different from any noble he had ever met, and her ways took some getting used to. "Good day," he sighed and reluctantly left to do as instructed.

Integra studied the faded map. Her father smuggled this map out from the house of one of the archbishops in World War Two. Another thing she inherited for which she was immensely grateful.

"The Wild Geese?" Lord Winston inquired. "Sounds familiar." He stroked his white beard. "A remnant of your past, no doubt."

"Humph. Call me nostalgic if you like, but I think it's only right to honor their memory somehow."

He placed a hand on her back, and strangely she permitted it. "This is a totally different side of you. I thought the great Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing was above such petty sentiments."

She shook her head. "You would think. But time has given me a different perspective. In the end," and she recalled the 'glory days' with the four of them, Walter, Seras, Alucard, and herself fighting vampires, "sentiment is all we have."

"Indeed."

* * *

She rose like a woman who had been spared from being stoned. A bandaged husk only, perhaps, yet invisible strings did move her. From whence the strings came, she had an idea. But that was impossible. He was gone for good.

"H-how?" the men stuttered. As scientists they could only watch on. In their great arrogance they didn't think guards were required. They assumed everything worked according to their equations and laws. They were wrong. "But it is starved!"

Seras did not know where the words came from. It was like watching her life in third person. The wheel turning on its own. She found herself chuckling. "Do you not taste it? The blood? The blood in the air!"

In the blink of the eye she pounced on the first scientist and sunk her teeth into his neck. The rest tried to flee, but the doors shut on their own. The candles began to flicker and so did the silhouette of her blood-induced frenzy.

* * *

 **Note: Alucard spent 15 years defeating the monsters and beasts which had taken over his valley. This in combination with the 30 years lead to the 45 years that was mentioned in the notes of Chapter 1.**


	4. A busy awakening

_Time heals all wounds._

* * *

 _"The first order of business is to weaken its will."_

 _"But sir? Isn't it in all practical purposes of the word, 'dead' to the world?"_

 _"Not quite," the leader smiled sadistically. "Asleep, yes. But it's mind is quite busy."_

 _"I thought vampires do not dream?"_

 _"No!" He moved beside the casket. "They don't. But they remember. And they contemplate. It's part of their curse." He reached a hand over and stroked the vampire's cheek, cooing, "You, my dear, hold the key to everything."_

 _"Um, Father," another of the researchers timidly caught his attention. "The tank is here."_

 _He straightened and cleared his throat. "Then, get started. Submerge the beast!"_

 _They all watched as the vampire, no longer the angel she was before, but a shrunken and dehydrated husk, was lowered into the tank of holy water. They watched as the vampire began to writhe, trying to escape the clutches of the chains suspending it there._

 _"Is it awake? Won't this kill it?" his assistants clamored._

 _"Do not worry, friends. It is merely under unconscious duress. And as for killing it, I'm afraid we still haven't discovered that clue."_

 _One of the assistants, more practical than the others crossed his arms. "What then, if the vampire is to one day escape its bindings?"_

 _A chuckle spread throughout the room. "Impossible," their boss declared. "We are under God's protection after all."_

 _The same assistant turned his attention back to the seemingly human form struggling in the water. He watched as bubbles escape its mouth, obviously under much more than plain duress. He wondered if God truly would protect them after this._

* * *

Seras blinked her eyes. Sitting up swiped her bangs to the side from where they had been clinging to her damp skin. Strangely she felt around her neck to find what felt like cloth. Looking down, she jumped. Her entire body was covered. "What is this?" she wondered.

Then all of it came back to her in full clarity. Way back when she decided to simply sleep. Followed by waking up somewhere...she could not tell. But sharp things poked her, and knives carved out pieces of her flesh. It hurt. And all along she could not move or talk or see. It was hell.

At last the pain stopped coming. She found herself flying over land and sea. It seemed like she was a million times hungrier, and much of that hunger was satisfied. But then, half the time she felt like she had been shot. A cycle of constantly dying, it was torment and freeing at the same time.

And lastly, the memory of waking up with an overwhelming hunger. She was angry and delighted at the same time. It was a weird sensation. One that she was not opposed to experiencing again.

She stood up and appraised her body again. The bandages itched to be honest. The first order of business would be finding clothes. Unfortunately, she had very limited options.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered, picking out a lab coat and a pair of slacks. The blood stains would've bothered her if not for the fact that it was really food stains to a vampire.

Carefully she unraveled the bandages from everywhere except her chest and hips. The feel of her full and healthy flesh was refreshing as opposed to the mummy she was before. And her hair had been restored to its blonde color. She was back. But more importantly, she was motivated. She was aware of what she had been forced to do, of how the Catholics used her. They would pay for attacking her home and using her to do so.

They didn't have guns. "Useless brainiacs." She dug around for anything else that might be useful but came up empty.

Placing her hands, she thought she might as well get going when a black dog with silver eyes slunk through a wall.

"You look like you have the mange," Seras frowned.

The dog simply quirked its head.

"Don't look at me like that. You're the one who came out of nowhere."

The dog quirked its head the other way.

"I'm already beginning to hate you," she pouted.

* * *

Alucard inspected himself in the bathroom mirror. The bunker was not hard to find. He'd know the scent of his master anywhere. It was too intoxicating to miss.

He glanced to the side at the cupboard where his victim lay. By the time his body was discovered, it would be too late. His infiltration will be complete.

The image of an androgynous young man wearing a dark cowboy hat and night camouflage gear passed the mirror on by. His reflection seemed to shrink away, disturbed by the shit-eating grin on the stranger's face.

"A lovely night, I can tell."

* * *

Seras was able to pry an HK MP7 off the first guard she killed. It was a matter of simply sneaking up behind him using her vampiric speed and stealth. Before the other guard had a chance to turn around to see about the commotion, he already had two bullets through his ears.

"Pip, are you with me?" she wondered aloud, as she retrieved their extra magazines.

"Oui, it's been a long time has it not? Mon cheri has been feeding well, I see."

"Too long," she smiled and for the first time in 50 years, she felt relieved. "What is going on out there? I sense a lot of disturbance. A lot of people are dying. Almost like the Vatican is being attacked."

"Hmm, I think it would be better if you see for yourself," he replied cryptically. "Take a look." And he shoved her consciousness into the many different consciousnesses of the birds. From their different perspectives, she was able to survey the whole battlefield.

"That is the uniform of the Crown," she muttered. "England is fighting back!" Intrinsically, she seemed to know how to manipulate the flights of the birds. Where before they were attacking all without distinction, she was able to focus their energies on the Catholic soldiers.

"C'mon, Seras. Before your little pets take care of all the sport," Pip suggested eagerly. He had been cooped up for too long, and his nature demanded action.

"Hold on," she frowned. "That's impossible."

"What? I wasn't paying attention. What did you see?"

"I thought I saw Integra. On the lowest floor actually."

"Well then, mon cheri. What do you say we check it out?"

"Gladly," she determined.

Alucard could barely keep the grin off his face, looking at the back of his master as she led their men into glorious battle. There was only three of them left, and Alucard wasn't ashamed to admit, he had surreptiously helped lower that amount. But these dogs didn't deserve to fight by his master's side. Meanwhile, he imagined her expression when he finally revealed himself. It was going to be a savory sight.

Gunfire, and then there were two of them. Sir Hellsing retreated behind some cartons of wine, and he followed her. She hurried to catch her breath, and Alucard was once again reminded of just how frail humans were. Even his master.

"So," he began, changing his voice to sound more like his real one, but not overtly so. "Is this really all the great Sir Integra Fairbrooks Hellsing, Knight of the Round Table, and hunter extraordinaire of the supernatural could come up with? A suicidal plan with no hope of success? Are you to die here," he continued, "never to know whether this offensive even pays off? Never to know if your sacrifice was worth it?"

"I didn't ask for your opinion, soldier. Our army will succeed whether we die or not. That is how foolproof my plans are."

"Oh," he found himself pleased with her answer. But time to push the envelope. "Then what of your vampires when you're gone? Will you let them roam the earth, sowing destruction and pain as is their nature?"

"I haven't told anyone about the vampires. Not even Winston or the Queen. Wait a minute," she glared at him. "Now I know who your voice reminds me of. Alucard, will you stop with the pretensions!"

He began to laugh maniacally as his body transformed into his old self, with red suit and hat. He even held his stomach, he was enjoying himself so intensely, and all to Sir Hellsing's disdain.

"I was wondering when you'd notice. But you never disappoint, my old Master. Indeed, you won't be dying tonight. For now, the time has come. Give me your orders. Let me slay all of thine enemies. Simply say the word, and I shall trample upon thine opponents. Point your finger and I shall leave a wake of death in that direction."

Integra was silent for a moment, probably contemplating his punishment. But a crash interrupted their mental stalemate, and Integra was forced to conclude:

"Search and destroy, Alucard. I repeat, search and destroy! Leave nothing and no one, alive!"

* * *

I went back and edited a lot of mistakes out, spelling and grammar and what not. There's still some left, but they are a lot fewer. I also made some minor changes to the organization of the chapters. I also added some notes about the timeline throughout the story in case it was confusing. THANKS FOR READING.


End file.
